f life
and death, fire and the sword, backed up by the visible authority
of armed men, and yet I am powerless before the dreams of an old
woman and a half-grown lad--soldiers and horses and the gallows
and yellow gold are less than the wind blowing in their
faces.--It is a strange thing that: it is a thing I do not
understand.--It is a thing fit to sicken a man against the notion
that there are probabeelities on this earth.--have been beaten
for a' that. Aye, the pair o' them have beat me--though it's a
matter of seconds till one of them be dead.

MORAG (_starting into upright position and staring at him; her
voice is like an echo to his_). Dead!

CAMPBELL (_turning hastily_). What is that!

MORAG. Is he dead?

CAMPBELL (_grimly_). Not yet, but if ye'll look through this window
(_he indicates window_) presently, ye'll see him gotten ready for
death.

(_He begins to collect articles of personal property, hat, etc._)

MORAG. I will tell you.

CAMPBELL (_astounded_). What!

MORAG. I will tell you all you are seeking to know.

CAMPBELL (_quietly_). Good God, and to think, to think I was on the
very act--in the very act of--tell me--tell me at once.

MORAG. You will promise that he will not be hanged?

CAMPBELL. He will not. I swear it.

MORAG. You will give him back to me?

CAMPBELL. I will give him back unhung.

MORAG. Then (CAMPBELL _comes near_), in a corrie half-way up the
far side of Dearig--God save me!

CAMPBELL. Dished after a'. I've clean dished them! Loard, Loard!
once more I can believe in the rationality of Thy world. (_Gathers
up again his cloak, hat, etc._) And to think--to think--I was on
the very act of going away like a beaten dog!

MORAG. He is safe from hanging now?

CAMPBELL (_chuckles and looks out at window before replying, and
is at door when he speaks_). Very near it, very near it. Listen!

(_He holds up his hand--a volley of musketry is heard. KILMHOR
goes out, closing the door behind him. After a short interval of
silence the old woman enters and advances a few steps._)

MARY STEWART. Did you hear, Morag Cameron, did you hear?

(_The girl is sobbing, her head on her arms._)

MARY STEWART. Och! be quiet now; I would be listening till the
last sound of it passes into the great hills and over all the
wide world.--It is fitting for you to be crying, a child that
cannot understand; but water shall never wet eye of mine for
Dugald Stewart. Last night I was but the mother of a